


i'd follow you to the great unknown

by sammysummers



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - The Amazing Race Fusion, BAMF Clint Barton, BAMF Natasha Romanov, Clint Barton Needs a Hug, Deaf Clint Barton, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Gen, Natasha Romanov Is Not A Robot, Natasha Romanov Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:35:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23400835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sammysummers/pseuds/sammysummers
Summary: 72,000 miles, five weeks, and an experience that'll change both of them for good.Natasha has no idea why she agreed to this.Clint's just glad that she did.
Relationships: Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 13
Kudos: 22





	1. chapter one

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint has a proposition, and Natasha can't say no to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys.
> 
> So this fic was born out of quarantine and way too many reruns of the Amazing Race. Hopefully people enjoy it- a few notes below that you should be aware of.
> 
> 1) the course is going to follow The Amazing Race 5, so if it looks familiar, it's because it is! i couldn't make anything like this up.
> 
> 2) i've taken some creative liberties, so if a few of the rules are different, please don't come at me! 
> 
> 3) i literally have no idea if anyone is interested in this, but i hope so because i really want to write it- the story just won't leave my head.

Natasha blames Clint for this whole mess. She blames Clint for making her dinner and getting her drunk (on good Russian vodka, no less), and then asking her if she would apply for The Amazing Race with her once she was too inebriated to think straight. But mainly, she blames him for being him, because as much as she hates to admit it to herself, she knows that she would have agreed even if she was sober. 

Natasha’s been in love with Clint Barton since he replied to her roommate ad four years ago and showed up to the interview with Chinese and a sheepish grin, telling her that he didn’t know what she liked so he got one of just about everything. 

She’s done a good job of hiding her feelings, though. She’s ninety-nine percent sure that he has no idea. If he does, he’s been too nice to say anything.

But now she’s sitting on the couch with him, filming their submission video because apparently she’s a masochist who thinks it’s a good idea to apply to essentially take a month-long vacation with a guy who will never see her as anything other than a friend. She runs her hands through her hair and tries for a perky smile as Clint sits down next to her.

“Hi, I’m Natasha Romanoff, I’m twenty-six, and I own a gym. I’m originally from Russia but I immigrated to Brooklyn when I was eight and I’ve just never left.”

Clint smiles that mega-watt smile at her, all crinkling eyes and white teeth, and oh, she’s so fucked.

“Hey,” he says into the camera. “I’m Clint Barton, I’m twenty-seven, and I’m the NYPD Chief of Police. I’m actually the youngest one ever to hold that position.”

Natasha snorts. “And he actually never shuts up about that fact.” 

He pokes her in the side, but he’s grinning, and Natasha knows she needs to stop staring at his mouth. “She’s so mean to me. Uh, also, I’m originally from Iowa, but I moved to New York when I was eighteen to become a cop.” He turns to Natasha. “Is that it?”   


“We’ve known each other for four years,” Natasha adds. “He answered the ad that I put out for a roommate.” She pauses, tilting her head to the side, and then smirks. “He was neat for probably the first four hours and then he just gave up. Honestly, he’ll let his laundry pile up forever if I don’t remind him to do it. One time, I went into his room to borrow a charger and- mmph!” Clint’s jammed his hand over her mouth so she can’t say anything else. 

“You can’t share all of my secrets with them!” he says, laughing. “They’re never going to let us on the show.”

_ Good,  _ Natasha thinks.

“Natasha really is my best friend, though,” Clint says, his eyebrows scrunching in the way they always do when he’s serious about something. “She’s always been there for me when I needed it, and I honestly couldn’t ask for a better roommate. I got really lucky, that’s for sure.” His eyes slide to Natasha, and she realizes that she has to say something.

“Clint’s my best friend, too.” He looks surprised, but pleased, and she wonders why. Surely he's realized that he's the only one she willingly hangs out with. “He keeps me grounded. New York is a really tough place to live all by yourself, but having someone you can rely on  makes it so much better.”

“Aaaand that’s a wrap,” Clint says, reaching over to stop the video recording on his phone. “We can do the rest tomorrow after work.”   


She nods. She’s pretty sure she’s not physically able to say no to Clint, anyway. “I’m off at five.”

“I’ll meet you there. I’m not totally sure what to film-” he rubs the back of his neck- “but we could just go to Central Park and mess around there, get some tape and then decide whether or not we want to use it.” Natasha nods again. He stands up, stretching, and no, nope, no, Natasha is definitely not looking at where his shirt rides up and his (very prominent) V-line is visible. “Night, Tasha.”

“Good night,” she calls after him. And yeah, there’s a lot more that she wants to say, but she has no idea where to start. 

* * *

Clint Barton doesn’t consider himself to be a smart person. He really only knows three things for certain- water is wet, he’s seventy percent deaf, and getting Natasha to apply for the Amazing Race with him was the best idea he’s ever come up with in his twenty-seven years of living. 

He’s been hooked on her since she shook his hand when they first met, but he only realized that he was in love two months later, when he came home from work one day to find her curled up on the couch with a sign language phrasebook, practicing just so she could talk to him when his aids were out. 

“I want you to feel comfortable here,” she’d said when he asked why she was learning. “If you want to take your aids out, you should be able to do that without worrying that we’ll have trouble communicating.”

He never tells her that nobody, nobody has ever learned sign language for him before. He gets the feeling that she knows anyway. 

Clint doesn’t consider himself to be a shy person (you really can’t be when you’re in charge of the entire NYPD) but he’s never quite been able to tell Natasha how he feels. He’s afraid he’ll scare her off, and even though he can more than afford to live on his own, in a nicer place, he’s not leaving if he doesn’t have to. Not unless Natasha comes with him.

But now he’s got a foolproof plan. They’ll join the Amazing Race and somewhere along the way, he’ll tell her everything he’s been wanting to say for the last four years. All of the things that have been on the tip of his tongue for so long, only to be swallowed every time she would tell him not to stay up, that she was going on a date and she wouldn’t know what time she would be home. 

He’s noticed that she never brings anyone home, though. Not in the four years that he’s been there. She’s told him repeatedly that he can bring a girl home if he wants, but he really doesn’t want to. He doesn’t know how to express that all he wants is her.

Clint’s aware that it’s a long shot that they’ll even make it to the second stage of casting, let alone to the actual show, but he has a gut feeling that luck might be on his side here. He turns his head to look out the window right before he goes to sleep, and he wishes on the brightest star he can find. 

* * *

One of the officers is roped into filming Clint going about his day- meeting with the recruits, giving presentations, and even helping out with training at the police academy. The last one isn’t actually something he does very often, but he thought it might look good. He leaves at 4 in the afternoon, earlier than normal, and goes to see Natasha.

In Clint’s humble opinion, she has the nicest gym in all of Brooklyn. It’s not huge, but a lot of people go because of the trainers and the high-end equipment. Natasha teaches classes, too. When he gets there, she’s scaling the rock wall with one of her colleagues. He pulls out his phone and starts filming before she can tell him to stop. Unfortunately, she chooses that moment to turn and look directly 

at him. Clint gives her a guilty smile as she jumps down gracefully and stalks over to him. Strands of red hair have come out of her bun and are framing her face. 

God, Clint doesn’t deserve her.

“I need more footage of you in your natural habitat, Tash,” he says, pointing to the aerial silks section. “Just go do something on those and then we can leave.” She narrows her eyes at him, but he can tell she’s not actually mad.

“Fine. You’re buying Thai food for us tonight, though.”

Clint wants to tell her that he would buy her dinner every night if she wanted. He doesn’t say anything, though, just watches as she winds one foot in the silks and begins pulling herself up. Before long, they’ve gotten the video and they go home after filming a little in Central Park, where Clint tells the camera that he has a good sense of direction and Natasha says that she can speak eight different languages. She signs the words at the same time to make her point.

Then they eat dinner and edit the video and submit it, and before long, they’ve forgotten all about it.

Natasha gets the call two months later. She ignores it, figuring that it’s a telemarketer that she doesn’t have time for. When the same number calls again two hours later, she picks up. She has a firm belief that if someone calls more than once, it's important enough for her to at least acknowledge it.

“Hello?”

The voice on the other end is smooth. “Is this Natasha Romanoff?”

“May I ask who’s calling?” She’s not about to give her full name to some random person on the phone.

“This is Melinda May. I’m one of the casting directors for the Amazing Race.”

“Oh!” Natasha sits down on one of the bench presses heavily. “Yes, this is Natasha Romanoff.”

“Great.” She hears Melinda shuffling papers. “I’m just calling to let you know that you and your partner, Clint Barton, have been selected for the second stage. Congratulations to the both of you.”

“Thank you!” Natasha injects cheer she doesn’t feel into her voice, pointing to another free bench press station when some guy wanders over and clears his throat loudly next to her.

“You said that you live in New York City. Would the two of you be available for a video conference on Saturday?”

“I’ll need to check with him. Can I call you back?”

“Of course. If I don’t pick up, feel free to leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.” Melinda hangs up without waiting for a response, and Natasha goes through the rest of her day in a daze. 

* * *

“Honey, I’m home!” Clint shouts as he walks into the apartment. Natasha pops out of her room.

“Guess who called today.”

Clint shrugs. “Who?”

“The casting director for the Amazing Race!” Natasha says. She’s beaming at him, and Clint’s eyes widen. He’d practically forgotten that they applied.

“Really? Nat, we might actually make it!”

“Don’t get your hopes up,” Natasha says, but it lacks any actual force. “Are you free on Saturday? They want to have a video conference with us.” 

“When was the last time I had any plans?” Clint says, laughing.

Natasha considers this. “You’re right. I should have just said it was fine.” He flips her off and she laughs. That night, Natasha makes a packing list for the Amazing Race. She tells herself that it’s because it doesn’t hurt to be prepared. It’s not because she wants to go.

* * *

“Oh my god.” Natasha is staring at her emails.

“What?” Clint leans over to look.

“We got in.”

“What?”

“We got in,” Natasha repeats, her eyes widening. “Clint, we got in!” Clint grabs her and spins her around.

“Tash, oh my God, we did it!”

“We barely have a month to get ready,” Natasha says, looking over the email. “There’s a recommended packing list here, but it’ll be tough because we literally have no idea where we’re going.”

“Well, where does it start?” Clint asked.

“Santa Monica Pier, January 30th, but we have to be there on January 25th,” Natasha replies, engrossed in reading the packing list.

“This is insane, you know that?” Clint says. 

Natasha meets his eyes. “Yeah.”

“We’re gonna be the best team, though, don’t worry,” Clint continues. “And then we can split the million dollars and do whatever we want with it.”

She smiles, despite the butterflies that have erupted in her stomach since reading the email. “You’re going to jinx us, idiot.” Clint ignores her.

“We need to let our jobs know that we’re going on a-” he makes finger quotes- “off-the-grid technology-free trip for a month.”

“So basically a short sabbatical,” Natasha says.

“Yeah, I guess.” Clint figures that’s a better way to put it.

The next few weeks are a whirlwind of packing and unpacking and repacking and fighting about packing- “No one needs three jackets, Natasha!” “I get cold easily, and you’ll be sorry when we’re hiking through fucking Antarctica!” - that their time is almost up before they know it. They’ve spent a lot of money on the recommended brands of backpacks, jackets, and all of the other things that the list says they should bring. Natasha has read website after website, trying to figure out how to pack her backpack most effectively, and by extension how to pack Clint’s backpack most effectively since he’s just copying her. They work out at Natasha’s gym together and go on runs- Natasha quickly learns that Clint hates cardio but is good at it, and they study the maps and flags and landmarks of all different places during dinner and watch every single season of the Amazing Race together. 

Natasha wants to win. She hadn’t thought about it until they got the email saying they made it, but now she realizes that she really, really wants to win. And once she gets her five hundred grand, she knows exactly what she wants to do.

She wants to sell her gym and move to Oregon.

She also knows that she’ll never do it, not unless Clint comes with her.

Natasha goes back to shopping online for toiletries. It’s easier than thinking.

“Tasha!” Clint calls from the living room. “ Come here! The other candidates’ profiles are up! We can see who we’re competing against!” 

Natasha gives up her hunt for the perfect dry shampoo and joins him, tucking her legs under her as she sits down.

“Let’s see,” Clint muses as he scrolls through the profiles. “A father-daughter team, a divorced couple, brothers, frat brothers, twins.” He whistles and points to a picture of a big blond man with a jovial smile. “Look at the biceps on that guy.”

“Is he a weightlifter?” Natasha asks.

“Apparently he’s a pediatrician,” Clint says. 

The corners of Natasha’s mouth curl up and she leans over to look at the photo. “Jesus. I would not have wanted him giving me shots when I was eight.”

“His brother looks scarier, though.” Clint turns the laptop so she can see. 

“How are they related?” Natasha says, enlarging the picture as if that will somehow cause them to look alike. The guy is short and thin with dark hair, and he’s frowning.

“Maybe one of them is adopted,” Clint says. “Wait, their names are Thor and Loki. So probably not. I refuse to accept the fact that two different families chose to name their kids after ancient gods.” 

Natasha rolls her eyes.

“Just keep going.” She hooks her chin over his shoulder and then points to a photo of two people, one with short dark hair and one with longer blond hair. “They look like they’re going to be tough to beat.” She doesn’t know why she thinks that, she just has a feeling.

“Sam and Carol,” Clint reads. “They live in Boston and they’ve known each other since they were two. He’s a physical therapist and she’s an investment banker.” The two people in the photo had their arms around each other and looked like they were caught mid-laugh. Natasha wondered what people thought when they saw the photo of her and Clint. 

“That kid does not look old enough to be on this show,” Clint says, pointing to another photo and snapping her out of her thoughts.

“They made a new rule that you could be sixteen to twenty-one if you’re with an adult who’s twenty-five or older,” Natasha informs him. 

They spend three hours just going through everyone’s photos, and by the end, they have predictions for who will win. Natasha says the brother-sister duo from Los Angeles- T’Challa and Shuri, she remembers, and Clint says it’ll be the frat brothers from Duke- Steve and James.

“Only if we weren’t competing, of course,” Clint says matter-of-factly, and Natasha rolls her eyes fondly. She does honestly think that they have a good chance, but she’s not going to say anything. It’s not that she’s superstitious, but she kind of is, and she’s not going to risk it.

She falls asleep that night and dreams of getting lost in the Great Pyramids of Giza. 

The last five days pass in a blur, and all of a sudden Natasha and Clint are sitting in the airport, waiting for their flight to Santa Monica. 

“Are you nervous?” Clint asks, laying a hand on her knee. She hadn’t even realized that she was bouncing it. 

“A little,” she says honestly. “There’s just so much that could go wrong.”

“It’ll be fine,” he says, squeezing her leg. “We’re together.” She nods weakly, because really, what is she supposed to say to that?

She can’t believe she ever agreed to this. 

Their flight is called, and as they take their seats and settle down on the plane, Clint by the window and Natasha in the middle, she wonders just what she’s getting herself into.

Five weeks. Four of them filming. One lifetime experience. 

Is it wrong that she’s already hoping the hotels only have one bed?

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please please please leave a comment! it helps me to know the amount of interest and it also just makes my entire day. 
> 
> i love you guys! stay safe and healthy!


	2. chapter two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> clint and natasha meet their production crew, get back at some bad neighbors in the hotel, and get to know a brother-and-sister duo who are clearly winning at life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm back with another chapter! thank you to the people who commented and said that they'd like to see this fic continue. i don't really have a consistent update schedule, so i'm sorry about that, but i will be trying to pump out new updates, especially now when i have a lot more free time to write.
> 
> stay safe and healthy, and please enjoy this chapter!

They’re picked up from the airport by a cab and brought to the hotel. Natasha would be embarrassed by the noise she makes when Clint opens the door to their suite, but his wide eyes and slack jaw evens it out. It’s easily the nicest place she’s ever stayed, not that she travels much anyway, and after a seven hour flight, she’s more than ready to sleep for a good twelve hours. 

The producers have other plans, though, and so Natasha and Clint are standing in the lobby and waiting for their production crew, who are clearly late. They were supposed to be here at 7 and it’s already 7:15.

“I’m starving,” Clint mutters, leaning against the wall. Normally, Natasha would tell him not to exaggerate and that there are people who are actually starving, but at this point she’s inclined to agree. She hasn’t eaten anything since the beginning of the plane ride, and she can hear her stomach growling audibly.

“Do you want to get room service after this?” she asks. 

“Please.” Clint turns to fully face her. “That is exactly what I want to do.”

“Good, because I wasn’t actually giving you a choice.” Natasha resolutely ignores the butterflies in her stomach when he grins at her.

“Ms. Romanoff? Mr. Barton?” They turn to look at the sound of the new voice. The man is dressed in a suit and flanked by a petite woman with brown hair. He holds out a hand to each of them in turn. “My name’s Phil Coulson, and I’ll be one of your cameramen during this race.”

“I’m the other one,” said the lady who’s walked up with him. “Nice to meet you both. I’m Maria Hill. This won’t take long- we just wanted to meet you and go over the rules, and then you’re free.”

They take a seat on one of the lobby’s couches and Natasha fights down multiple yawns. Most of the stuff that they go over are things that Natasha already knows- no electronics, the camera crew aren’t allowed to help them or say anything, no bringing extra cash or credit cards- and she ends up zoning out slightly as she envisions all of the places that they might go. Vietnam? France? Kenya? She’s never gotten to travel much, and now’s her chance.

“You guys have three full days to hang out here, and the race will begin at 10 AM sharp on January 30th. We’ll meet you at the hotel at 7 AM to have breakfast before we travel to the starting location together. At that point, you’ll be required to give in all electronics and your bags- someone has to go through them to make sure you’re not trying to bring anything that you’re not allowed to. Any questions?” Maria rattles off without taking a breath.

Natasha glances at Clint. “I think we’re good.”

“Great!” Maria smiles at them. “Then we’ll see you in a few days! Enjoy your stay!” She walks off briskly with Phil hurrying after her, and Natasha slumps against Clint. He runs a hand over her hair.

“Come on, let’s get that room service,” he says, helping her to her feet.

“‘M so getting a burger,” Natasha mumbles as they step into the elevator and ride up to their floor.

They end up ordering burgers and fries and milkshakes from room service and eating them on Clint’s bed as Natasha uses the remote to flip through the different channels, finally landing on an older episode of The Office.

“Darryl reminds me of you,” Clint says, sucking the grease from the fries off of his fingers. Natasha’s eyes track the movement before his comment registers and she smacks his shoulder. “Ow, fuck, Natasha!” Clint shifts away from her.

“You deserved it,” Natasha says unapologetically.

“It was a compliment! Darryl is a good character,” Clint complains. “He’s totally underrated.”

“That doesn’t mean I want to be like him.” Natasha rolls her eyes. She secretly likes Darryl, but she doesn’t want Clint to think of her that way.

“Fine.” Clint holds up his hands in concession and she jabs him in the ribs. Shrieking, he kicks out a leg blindly and she just manages to save her milkshake from instant death.

“Clint! Be careful!”

“That was your fault!” Clint retorts, snickering. Natasha lunges for him and almost makes it when he suddenly clamps a hand over her mouth. “Shhh!”

“Mmph?” Natasha says, prying his hand off. “What?”

“Listen!”

“I am!” For a few moments, the only sounds in the room are their breathing and the slight hum of the heater, and then Natasha hears it. She and Clint make the same disgusted face as another loud groan echoes from the room next to theirs. “Why did you make us be quiet?” she complains. “Now I can’t unhear that!”

“Who do you think it is?” Clint asks. Natasha gives him an incredulous glance. 

“Why would I have any idea?”

“Do you think it’s another team, though?” 

“Probably. Aren’t all the teams on this floor?” The moaning and grunting picks up, and Natasha can feel her face heating, even as Clint looks unfazed. She schools her expression into one of disdain and prays her cheeks aren’t that red.

“We should try to guess who it is at breakfast tomorrow,” Clint suggests.

“Sure,” Natasha sighs.

“Okay, so what do we know about them already?” he asks. “They’re both male, so that’ll already narrow it down.”

“Wait, how do you know they’re male?” Natasha questions doubtfully. Clint lets out a long-suffering sigh, though Natasha can tell it’s more for show than anything.

“Clearly, both those voices are male. Listen.”

“No, I’m good, thanks,” Natasha mutters. “Okay, so they’re both male, and one of them clearly loves God.” Clint’s already pulled up the other contestants’ bios on his laptop. 

“Okay, so there are three teams where both are guys,” he says, scrolling through. “Thor and Loki, but they’re brothers so I doubt it’s them, Tony and Peter, but it says that Peter is Tony’s intern and he’s sixteen so I hope it’s not them, and Steve and James, who are frat brothers and best friends.”

“Clearly it’s Steve and James then,” Natasha says, picking at the remains of the fries. 

“It doesn’t say they’re dating, though.” Clint winces as something- or someone- hits the connecting wall with a thump. “Are they really having sex up against our wall?”

“This sucks,” Natasha moans, flopping backwards. “Put on another TV show so we can drown it out.” Clint picks up the remote and begins switching the channels again. 

“Uh, South Park is on, Veep, oh, we could watch Moana-”

“Veep,” Natasha decides. “Please.” Clint doesn’t argue, and after clearing the bed, they settle against the headboard and try to drown out the noises coming from next door. Natasha tries to stay awake, but before long she’s asleep, her head flopping on Clint’s shoulder as his shoulders rise and fall steadily.

Natasha wakes up in her own bed at around 6 AM. She’s slightly jetlagged and disoriented, and it takes her a minute to figure out where she is. She looks around blearily, wondering where Clint is until the steady pulsing of water registers. Sighing, she flops backwards and drags a pillow across her face, and she’s almost asleep again when the people next door start having morning sex.

Natasha groans.

Forty-five minutes later, they walk out of their room and run right into the people next door. Clint opens his mouth, and Natasha stomps on his foot before he can inevitably say something rude.

“Good morning!” the blond one, Steve says cheerily. “It’s Natasha and Clint, right? I’m Steve, and this is Bucky.” James- Bucky- holds out a hand to shake.

“Nice to meet you,” Natasha says politely, shaking his proffered hand and discreetly looking both of them up and down- they’re so attractive it’s unfair, and she would really like to know what they eat to get a body like  _ that _ . 

“So, how long have the two of you been dating?” Clint asks, and Natasha elbows him.

“Oh, we’re not dating,” Steve says with a laugh. “We’re just good friends.”

“So you’re just fu-ouch, Natasha!” Clint glares at her and she smiles sweetly back at him. 

“Where are you guys from?” she asks. 

“Boston,” Bucky supplies. “Steve’s an architect, and I’m an investment banker. You?”

“New York City. Clint’s a cop and I own a gym.” The elevator arrives, and they all step in. 

“I should probably hit the gym more often,” Bucky says. “I’m lucky if I make it there once a week.” Natasha eyes his muscular torso.

“You look like you’re in pretty good shape to me.”

“Nah, nothing compared to Steve,” he chuckles, which, honestly, fair. Steve’s face and neck turn red and he stares at the floor, which Natasha doesn’t get. She’s pretty sure Steve’s upper body is the exact shape of a dorito. He has nothing to be embarassed about.

“It was nice to meet you guys,” Natasha says as they all get off. “I’m sure we’ll see you around.” The guys wave as they walk off, and she grabs Clint and hauls him to the side. “You can’t just ask people we’ve met ten seconds ago if they’re fuck buddies!”

“It’s not like you weren’t wondering too,” Clint says petulantly. Natasha releases him with a sigh.

“Come on, let’s go eat.”

They spend the rest of the day exploring Pacific Park at Santa Monica Pier. Clint eats his body weight in funnel cakes and then insists they go on the roller coaster. Natasha’s reservations about this idea turn out to be right- he runs to a trash can as soon as they get off and spends the next ten minutes throwing up. She feels bad until he straightens up, wipes his mouth, and says that he’s going to get another funnel cake. 

They take selfies and go on the ferris wheel and end the day at the carnival games. Clint has a ridiculously good aim and he wins an enormous stuffed llama, which he presents to Natasha with a flourish. She names it Yulia even though she knows that she’ll have to leave it at the hotel- there’s no way that it’ll fit in her luggage. 

The second and third days are much of the same. They walk around, eat junk food, go to the aquarium, do some more exploring and don’t come back until nightfall, upon which they fall asleep to the sounds of Steve and Bucky getting it on. 

Natasha doesn’t understand how two people can have so much sex. 

The night before the race begins, she’s digging through her bag to see if she has any of those free earplugs that you get on planes when Clint suddenly sits up.

“That’s it!” he groans. “I can’t listen to them any longer.” Natasha eyes him unsympathetically.

“Well, what do you suggest we do about it?” She begins repacking her bag.

“Let’s fake loud sex,” Clint says nonchalantly. Natasha stares at him. “See how they like listening to it.” Natasha’s first instinct is to say no. It’s immature and childish, and they should probably just try and sleep. But something about the gleam in Clint’s eye and her fraying nerves make her say,

“Okay. Let’s do it.” Clint looks surprised and then excited. 

“Right.” He scrubs one hand over his face and lowers his voice. “I’ll start banging the headboard into the wall. You just moan, I guess.”

“I can do that.” 

“Great.” He grins at her, and mouths, “Three, two, one, go!” Natasha waits for the thumping to start before she lets out a high-pitched whine.

“Ooh, yes!” She’s not a bad actress by any means, and as she gets more into it, her voice rises. “Mm, yeah, right there, Clint-” 

The talking and giggling from next door abruptly cuts off, and Natasha stifles a snicker as she makes eye contact with Clint. 

“Baby, you feel so good,” he moans obscenely, and shit, Natasha’s wet. There’s muted muttering from next door, and she knows they can hear the two of them. 

“Ah, Clint!” She slams herself backwards into the connecting wall with a loud thump. “Oh- oh God, I’m coming!” 

Clint groans deep in his throat. “I’m right there with you, sweetheart,” he says, out of breath from rocking the bed, and then it’s over. They make eye contact, Clint lying sideways across his bed and Natasha slumped on the floor ten feet away. Natasha’s struck again by how clear his blue-green eyes are.

“Do you think we fooled them?” Natasha whispers.

“Yeah,” Clint murmurs. “Yeah, I think we did.” And then he’s laughing, burying his face in a pillow to keep himself quiet, and so Natasha laughs too, even though she really wants to cry.

* * *

The next day comes far too early for her liking, and she’s only half awake when they stumble downstairs for breakfast. Her stomach is turning and she barely manages a slice of bread with butter. Clint seems to have no such reservations. Natasha jams fistfuls of granola bars and bags of trail mix into their already overstuffed bags while he eats, just to have something to do with her hands. Phil and Maria are there with them, and they give their bags to Phil right before they’re loaded into the taxis with another team- T’Challa and Shuri, a lively brother and sister duo from Los Angeles, who now live in Washington D.C. and Silicon Valley, respectively. T’Challa’s name rings a bell with Natasha, and she quickly realizes that it’s because he’s a Supreme Court justice. Shuri is just as impressive- she runs a tech startup and invents better and more affordable medical equipment on the side. As friendly as the siblings are, Natasha is too wound up to really focus, and it’s a relief when they’re able to get out of the car. She sees the other teams make their way to the starting line, and she reaches for Clint’s hand. 

“I’m nervous,” she confides, leaning into him. 

He gives her hand a squeeze. “It’ll make you run faster.”

“Good morning, everybody!” The cheery voice of Pepper Potts, one of the hosts of the show, floats over the assembled teams, and the chatter dies down. The other host, James Rhodes, wraps an arm around her waist.

“It’s great to see all of you. Your bags, with the first clue on top of them, are over there.” Twenty-two people turn their heads simultaneously in the direction that he’s pointing. “We’d like to remind everyone to be good sports- it’s a competition, but it shouldn’t be a brawl.” 

“Good luck, and we’re looking forward to seeing you at the first checkpoint!” Pepper says. They begin counting down together.

“Ten, nine, eight-” 

Natasha zeroes in on their bags. One glance at Clint tells her that he sees them too.

“Seven, six, five-”

She tenses, getting ready to sprint. In her peripheral vision, she can see the other teams doing the same.

“Four, three, two-”

“We’ve got this,” Clint whispers.

“One! Have fun and good luck! The Amazing Race is underway!”

Clint and Natasha take off towards their bags with their camera crew racing behind them.

“Here!” He tosses her her backpack and rips open the clue. 

“What does it say?” Natasha says, leaning over his shoulder. 

“Get yourself to Montevideo, Uruguay,” Clint says, scanning the contents of the envelope. “That’s all we need to know for now, but we have to get to the airport.” 

“Then let’s go!” Natasha yells, already sprinting off. “We need a taxi!”

“Here!” Clint flags a taxi down wildly and pushes Natasha in, climbing in after her. “Santa Monica Airport!” The driver nods and takes off, and Natasha sighs in relief. Beside her, Clint is practically vibrating. 

“What?”

“We’re going to Uruguay, Tash!” Clint says gleefully. “We’re in the race!” Natasha suddenly feels inexplicable tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. 

“Yeah, we are.” She rests her head on his shoulder and looks out the window as the driver weaves through traffic on the highway, and resolutely ignores the funny feeling in her chest for the rest of the drive.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments make my week, so please consider taking the time to write one if you liked this chapter. 
> 
> also, i'd like it to be known that i am taking one-shot prompt fill requests, so if you have any please feel free to send them in (either as a private message to me or a comment below)! i write both het and slash, and i will try to do any pairing that you ask, or i'll pick my own if you just send in a prompt. 
> 
> looking forward to (hopefully) hearing from you guys :))


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